In Stride
by Reno Spiegel
Summary: ( FFVII x FFX x Cowboy Bebop ) When three strangers and one ex-Turk wash up on shore in Junon after Meteor, and more survivors are discovered, a deadly game of cat and mouse begins.
1. Chapter I

**Author's Note**: Alright. I don't know if anyone even remembers this thing was going to happen, but here it is. Finally, the crossover I almost forgot about. Remember my old stories "I Want to Live" and "The Crying Game?" Both of which were going to be part of a Final Fantasy VII/X/Cowboy Bebop crossover? Yeah, this is that. Explanations will be given somewhere down the line. Title change. I don't know if I mentioned it was going to be called "Sinning in the Dark," but it's a shit title, so I pitched it.

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**In Stride**: Chapter I

-

He'd been born Mick Artillery Kanzen, in the Mideel City Hospital, at eight-o-three A.M., twenty-six years and some days ago. Many say it was the middle name, so strangely picked by his mother, that tied him so tightly to the lifestyle. A lot had happened since that day, though. His mother was gone, his hometown almost turned inside-out, and his name had gone with all of his past acquaintances. Now he was --

"Reno, we got another one!"

And he'd watched Meteor go down.

It had been an overnight process, that. Holy had summoned forth the Lifestream and, in a battle that he'd never forget, completely obliterated the hulk that had been sent for the purpose of destroying the Planet. He and his comrades had, after vacating all important executives remaining from the ShinRa Building, watched this from the safety of the nearby mountain range.

Afterward, construction on Neo-Midgar, led by Scarlet Chassity, was immediate and swift. In the week since the great Sephiroth incident, much cleanup had been done and a few sectors repaired. With nowhere else to go, the residents were more than happy to help build their homes from scratch again. The Turks, now under Rude's command, had been put on beach patrol.

The job description was something like this: Any floating debris, except the case of A, that looks useful should be brought to Scarlet immediately. Any random, dead body, except in the case of B, should be tossed onto the corpse fire. Any random, living body, except in the case of C should be moved to the ShinRa Hospital Wing immediately. A included any AVALANCHE weaponry, which was brought to the armory for replication. B included any AVALANCHE member, as the Highwind had gone down with Meteor, who would be crucified on ten foot poles along the shoreline. C included any AVALANCHE member, who was then to be terminated into B.

Reno hated this job, minus the fact they got sand-safe wheels on their cars for this.

Not many knew it, but the sight of someone actually dying made him ill, which was why he'd never killed anyone. He'd set them up for someone else's taking, but never his own. He didn't mind corpses or near-dead bodies, just the actual dying state.

"Come on, Re! You might wanna see this one!"

Reno, puffing a much-needed cigarette, gave an affirmative reply into his radio, checked Elena's current position, and hauled himself into his vehicle. Following the guidance system, he glimpsed three bloated, deceased AVALANCHE members already strung onto their poles: Cloud Strife, Barret Wallace, and Cid Highwind. His best friend, Rude, was currently trying to figure out how to get the mangled remains of Red XIII into position.

He came over the hill and saw her standing by a lump of red half out of the water, clothing washing back and forth as the waves came in. He knew who it was before he parked and got out of his car. He took a few steps toward the fallen body of Vincent Valentine, drew back briefly, and then knelt next to him. Violently rolling him over, Reno found one eye was open, the other pierced with a small metal rod. More of those decorated the front of his body at various depths, and his golden claw was completely gone, leaving just the stump it had been connected to and his other hand, Death Penalty still gripped in it.

"Is he dead?" Elena asked, though she didn't sound too concerned.

Reno waved his hand in front of the man's eyes, but it was useless. He hadn't expected a reaction and he didn't get one. "He's dead," the redhead replied, then called to Rude for help moving him to a pole.

The job was absolutely gruesome, even boringly so at times. They found about twenty survivors a day. In the morning they would find a whole heap of them and then the day would go slowly until they were let off duty at dark. Then they drank away the past day until they'd had their fill, then the day would repeat when the sun came up.

Rude had been maybe twenty feet from his companions when, suddenly, he jerked and dropped Vincent. It wouldn't have been so strange had he not backed away a step or two, as the bald man was not one to back down from a challenge. Even more surprising was when he took off his sunglasses, as if he finally needed a better look at something. Elena and Reno hurried over to his side, looking down at the body in front of him.

After a few moments of nothing out of Rude, Elena started, "What's your pr --"

"Shh!" It was Reno's harsh sound, and it was he who bent down to look Vincent in the face. "He's saying something."

It took her a second to understand, then it was Elena's turn to look away, shivering from a sudden chill. "Oh, Holy, Holy, Holy. . .he's still alive, isn't he?" Her stomach wasn't as shaky as Reno's, but it was still just the fact that he was so close to the end and he still insisted on fighting, metal rods and all.

Vincent Valentine was, indeed, alive, and something told him he was the only one. He didn't care whether he lived or died now; Lucrecia had been avenged, Hojo would kill no more, and his body was at its last few threads anyway. He murmured, "I know you. . .Turks. . .new Turks. . .how weak. . .thinking this can kill a Turk. . .should shoot you now. . .bad Turks you are. . .no rods can kill me. . .I'm eternal. . .left eye won't focus. . .heh, right eye's all blank. . .I remember the crash. . .been floating for a few days. . .damn you, Hojo. . .making me so durable. . ." With that, his voice fell silent and his consciousness slipped away, right eyelid trying to close over that rod.

The blonde of the group had walked away some time ago, and Reno only stood up once he was sure Vincent was out for the time being. Rude had his gun drawn, but his partner pushed it away. "No, Rude. You know the code. No Turk will kill another Turk, present or past. Valentine. . .he was one of the best, and you know he only opposed ShinRa to take out Hojo, the one we all wanted at. I'll take him to the hospital and explain."

Rude looked him in the eyes, and the redhead realized he'd never seen them before. They were nothing short of what he'd figured; steely grey as dangerous as the storm clouds they looked like, small pupils that seemed to make a bead on his forehead. But the sunglasses went back on, Rude nodded shortly, and Reno was left with a cigarette and an unconscious, dying man whose right eye blazed right through him.

He shivered before dragging Vincent to the car, putting him onto the tarp in the back seat, and getting into his own seat.

He briefly wondered just what had brought all this about, this life he was living. It had probably all stemmed from Rufus' death. Rufus ShinRa. . .there was a kid with his finger on the pulse. He would have never done something as sadistic as Scarlet was doing now, he decided as he passed between two giant poles. The parts left of Red XIII were going up now, Rude doing this with a disturbingly intense concentration on his face.

Reno looked away. No, Rufus would have let nature run its course, cleaned up the bodies when they had all floated to the shore, and kept on with how the company was running, AVALANCHE and Sephiroth be damned. Then again, maybe that's what had gotten him killed: waiting until the last minute to do something about an immediate threat.

"Stupid kids," Reno muttered dishonestly, turning on the radio and trying not to think about anything until Vincent Valentine was out of his back seat.

-

-

So it was half an hour later that he allowed himself to really think as he drove back to the beach. The hospital had been skeptical at first, saying that, Turk or not, he had fought against the company and would surely do it again if left alive. Reno had finally talked them into holding him for at least one night, until he could talk to Scarlet, and watched him for twenty minutes to see if there was any way he could pull into a better condition.

It looked like Vincent Valentine would be back on his feet in no time.

He phone began to ring and he picked it up, reading Elena's number on the caller ID. Looking at the clock in the dashboard, he realized they'd been off for three minutes, so he answered. "Yeah, Laney, what's happenin'?"

She sounded like she was in a better mood than she had been when Vincent Valentine's corpse had begun speaking. "Hey, Re. Rude and I are gonna go get a few drinks at Pablo's. You wanna meet us there? I'll grab you a burger if you just wanna stay home."

Reno smirked. He really appreciated Elena when they weren't on a job. When that happened, she wouldn't shut up and once in a while just botched the entire thing. But outside of the office, she was one of the nicest people you could know; if you couldn't make it to a meetup, she would brief you later. If you were sick, she'd come over and cook for you, even clean the kitchen after she was done. "Nah, I'll make it. I'm just a couple blocks away right now, actually."

"Alright," she chirped. "See you there."

Pablo's was perhaps the safest place to be in Midgar, no matter what kind of establishment you were looking for. No one had a grudge against Pablo, a war veteran who'd lost both of his legs between an armored jeep and a communication tower. He'd signed on as a pacifist, therefore a medic, and it was a good thing the drivers were on his side. He wheeled himself around his high-class, family restaraunt and bar and shook hands with everyone, delivered orders himself, but wasn't afraid to tell someone to get out.

No one had ever taken a shot at Pablo. He was just one hell of a guy, and one of the few who gladly talked to Turks.

In ten minutes, the redhead was sitting at a table centerpieced by a mug of Midgar's best. Elena had already changed out of her work clothes -- apparently, after Reno left, she slipped and fell onto a new body, ruining her pants -- but Rude wore bloodstains like badges of honor.

The talk started small, as it always did, but slowly built up until they got on the topic of that morning's discovery. It should be noted that when something of that magnitude is found and treated as it was, the company refused to be involved, just because it might be bad for their reputation. Reno knew that, and knew that the Turks would have to take responsibility for Vincent, as they certainly couldn't let him just wander around the city in that condition.

No, he reconsidered. He knew that he himself would be taking the fall for this one. Rude had wanted to blow him away, and Elena probably wouldn't mind that either. He was just about to say so when Rude himself cut in with, "He'll stay in some vacated SOLDIER barracks. That way we can watch him and we'll all be around in case some post-traumatic stress starts to show through. Someone like Valentine is someone you don't want to come down with shell-shock. In the case that he does. . ."

The redhead nodded. "We kill him. Definitely."

A tense few moments passed. Elena was picking apart and onion ring and trying to keep herself out of this testosterone-fueled argument, as subtle as it was, but silences were the hardest thing for her to shut up during. "Why can't we just play it by ear, guys? If something happens, we deal with it then. If he's fine, then we'll have been bitching for noth --"

The big, bald man suddenly stood up, threw his portion of the bill on the table, and walked out of Pablo's without so much as an audible motive.

Reno sighed and grinned slightly. "You're still a rookie at heart, eh, kid?" When he saw how confused she really was, he explained. "Rude doesn't play things by ear anymore, not since Tseng died. That was his plan. He radioed us on his way there, scrapped everything we had set up, and said to just see how it went once he was at the temple." She glanced down as he added, "And we never heard from him again."

They raised their glasses and bowed their heads, as had become custom for every mention of their commander. It was the one sign of respect for the job they had left. All they could do was hope Tseng would pull some of that divine intervention stuff he'd seemed capable of even in life when it was time to pull out of ShinRa for good.

The woman between them was the next to stand up, giving him a quick hug before explaining: "My washer's bouncing all over the basement, and the repairman said he'd be there in about half an hour from now. You wanna come over, hang out for the night? I'm outta booze, but it doesn't look like your night's too full."

He feinged hurt. "And just who says I don't have a giant party to go to tonight?"

"Hey, hey." She held up her hands. "You can go to all the parties you want to. I was just offering a night with the boring rookie after a day of cleaning up bodies."

They paused, and then he cracked a smile. "So you're admitting you're still a rookie?"

Reno hadn't been tickled in a good six years.

-

-

A few miles away, on the same stretch of beach they'd been combing some two hours before, something was wrong. A school of small fish suddenly scattered, surprised their snack had just begun thrashing wildly and screaming. They would regroup a while later and get a look of unified "What the hell?" before high-tailing it to deeper, safer water.

Their meal, however, was all alone. She realized this upon thrusting her head out of the water and taking in all the air she could. This was particularly difficult considering the path of weeds she had been held underwater by, the exact thing that had kept the sharp-eyed Turks from noticing her. She ran her fingers through her hair, noticing it was down; next to her arms, with small pieces of skin missing from the fish; next to her outfit, which was in particularly bad shape; after seeing she was in no immediate danger, she pull the seaweed from her face and took in that air again.

It was a sensory overload.

The smell of ocean, the sound of a city, the feel of the water trying to pull her back underneath, the taste of seawater in her mouth, the sight of. . .lights.

Huge, glittering lights by the thousands. Stars overhead, none of the constellations looking familiar to her in the least. Strange, machina beasts running back and forth with lights on the front. Giant, gravity-testing buildings, looking nothing like any design she'd ever seen. Glass, lights, stone, metal, all of it in a giant pillar of technology.

Her mind finally caught up and she nearly surrendered herself to the ocean again.

It must have happened to her, what had happened to the young boy. Sin must have moved her forward in time, to a more advanced. . .Luca? No, she thought quickly, it must be Sanubia, what with all this machina and possibly Al Bhed architecture. This must be a future Sanubia Desert, and Home must've been resettled closer to the coast for a better defense.

Her mind buffered again.

She was still in a different time. She paused, falling and crawling slowly toward drier land, and tried to retrace her most recent memories. She'd been. . .fighting Sin. Something had happened, and she'd tried to stop it. Suddenly she was heading toward the Farplane, but at the last second. . .

Something else surfaced in her mind and she collapsed on the sand, not caring that she'd dragged a lot of seaweed with her.

She was alone.

For the first time she could remember in a long time, she was absolutely alone. It had happened to Tidus, so it was entirely possibly it might happen to her. Sin -- Jecht -- Seymour -- whatever it had been at the time had transported her thousands of years into the future out of spite, one last moment of darkness before the end. And now that Sin was defeated for good. . .that meant there was no getting her back to where she'd come from.

Her last hope was that the Al Bhed had heard of Tidus' story through the years and would understand what must've happened to her. Closing her eyes and only hoping she might die by sunrise, she suddenly wished she had her Moomba doll for a much different reason than usual.


	2. Chapter II

**Author's Note**: Round two. I wanted to make sure people actually check the Crossovers section before I continued on, the review whore I am.

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**In Stride**: Chapter II

-

Elena awoke the next morning with some faint scraps of a hangover, which was understandable. She'd never be top contender for a drinking contest, and everyone knew it, so she never took in too much to handle the day after. Even if she could, it would be a bad thing for a Turk to do. She didn't know how Reno could take that, as he did so often.

The sun crept over the window sill at that moment and happened to land directly on one of his half-opened eyelids. He was one of those people who slept like that constantly. No one knew why, he personally had no proof they weren't all lying to him, and anyone who woke up with him generally called the police before trying to get him out of bed. He rolled over, groaned, and then turned back the other way.

He blinked. "Whose. . .?"

"Mine," she replied, staring at the ceiling. "Second drawer down on my side. I'm not moving."

He rolled his eyes, sat up, and let the sheet fall off himself, suit pants a bit wrinkled. She sank into the mattress as he retrieved a pack of cigarettes, pulling two out and dividing them appropriately. He took a few drags, chuckled at a joke the man fixing the laundry machine had made about racing it for gil, and then got up to make coffee, pulling his shirt on on the way to the kitchen.

Reno and Elena had a very unique friendship. If someone asked if they slept together often, they would both say that they did. If the next person asked when the last time they had sex was, they would honestly say they never had. The blonde had just become very accepting of the fact Reno slept wherever he was for the evening, and she only had one bed. So it was often that they slept in the same room, in the same bed, sometimes wearing absolutely nothing, with small, unspoken romantic attachment.

Rude was probably right in saying that marriage would have evolved to this if counselors had never come into being and they should just get hitched now. It would save them the money later.

Elena turned over and closed her eyes when she heard the coffee machine turn on. "I don't suppose you could put in a double shift and I could sleep, Re?" she called. When she got no response, she called out, "Reno, you alright?"

Suddenly cold, she noticed the blanket had disappeared. She knew he'd taken it, and when she rolled over to yell at him, her clothes hit her face. "I'm gonna have some coffee and hit the beach early," he told her, buttoning up his jacket. "You know, give Rude an easier time if we find anybody major today. Need anything before I take off?"

She took her cigarette from the ashtray and took a drag, looking thoughtful. "Bring me a cup of coffee and we'll be good," she replied, sitting up and looking down at herself. She made a face. "On second thought, just put a cup in the microwave. I've gotta take a shower and get this mud off me." She didn't understand how it was possible for so much gunk to get under a suit.

"Suit yourself," he said, doing as she'd asked and leaving the apartment.

Elena laid in bed until the cigarette was gone, then forced herself to stand up and walk to the kitchen. She knocked a bit of food over into the cat's dish, watched the feline inhale some of it, and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower. The door was nearly closed when her phone rang, and, knowing only the Turks had her work number, she hustled to her bedroom to pick it up. She saw Reno's name on the ID before answering, "What, did somebody steal your car?"

He scoffed on the other end. "I wish. I just called the building and they said Valentine's ready to be checked out, but he's damn near blind. They won't release him without someone there to get him, otherwise they turn him over to the authorities for public execution."

She rubbed her temples. The day already reeked of stuff like this. "Okay, so what's the big deal? Why not let them do that and get him out of our hair?"

"I can't do that!" he yelled, mainly because someone had just pulled in front of him. "Right of way, you fuck! Umm. . .what was I. . .oh, yeah, Valentine. I can't do that, Laney, and you know that. I'm gonna go pick him up, so if I'm not at the beach right away, let Rude know, okay?" His horn blared and he assumed she'd agreed in that second. "You're a doll, babe. See you later."

He got a bit too close to whoever he'd been screaming at and let those sand-safe tire chains do a job on his paint before speeding off.

Reno appreciated the small things in life for totally different reasons than most.

-

-

The redhead couldn't immediately judge Vincent's reaction to being "one of them" again, but his gut told him it might work out. As soon as he'd walked out the door, the crimson clad man had turned, raised his Death Penalty, and shot a bird off of a bench no less than twenty yards away. He'd unloaded the gun to one bullet and put it away with the only hand he had left.

He was as amazing as Tseng had said.

"No doubt the nurses told you what we're doing," Reno said, glancing at the other man. "About the rest of AVALANCHE and all that. I don't know how you feel about that, if you can do it after running around with them for so long."

Vincent was quiet for a moment, then he turned and their eyes met. Reno had a feeling he was the only person who could still glare into your soul with one eye fused shut and the other filled with little bubbles of blood. He had refused an eye patch. "Hojo is dead, is he not?" The other nodded. "Then my business with them is done. It was professional attachment and nothing else. I could have done without the death of Aeris, but at least my life goes on."

Reno tried not to shiver, but that man was ice cold. It was a Turk guideline to never get personally involved, of course, but he was a cut above the rest. He'd gone all the way to saving the world with some people and suddenly they were just statistics to him. "Right," the younger said. "I think we've found three or four so far, but Scarlet says we can't stop until they're all strung up along the beach. Find anything interesting, bring it to -"

"I've been on beach duty."

The redhead shut up until they arrived at the beach, and it wasn't to a calm scene. Elena was trying her hardest to restrain someone, and Rude was nowhere in sight. Reno opened the door of the car and hurried over to the struggle, taking in the new woman. She was tall, with black hair that fell past her waist, a strange outfit that was rippped and revealing, and a skirt made entirely of leather belts, none of which looked any worse for the wear. "Laney!" he called, getting her attention. "What's the deal?"

The woman tried to run at her, swayed, and fell on the sand with a wet thud. "I dunno," the blonde said as the other curled up and began shivering. "I was just gonna take her to the hospital and she started screaming at me. I pulled a gun and told her to calm down, and that's when she started throwing herself at me - said something about an island. . .Bassid, or something. Called my gun a machine. Should we wait for. . ." She suddenly realized that Vincent Valentine was slowly making his way toward them, still in his torn cloak, and quieted herself. "Reno," she whispered. "How can he even walk?"

There was a look of admiration on his face when he patted her shoulder and said, "He's amazing."

A change had also taken place in the woman on the beach. She had looked at the approacing Vincent and her mouth had opened, as if she was too shocked to say something she obviously wanted to. He knelt down next to her and gently felt at her face for a moment. "You're!" she gasped loudly, and then whispered something the two Turks couldn't hear from that distance before passing out.

They went over to help him after the third time he tried to carry her, knowing his arm wasn't long enough for the task. When the stranger was in the back of Reno's car, Vincent looked at them accusingly. "Do either of you know an Auron or why I might be presumed to be him?"

Both shrugged and Elena answered, "Never heard of him. She seems a bit out of it, though. I'll take her to the hospital and th -"

"No," Vincent interrupted. "I will drive her to the hospital. Don't give me that look; if anyone were to know the way to the ShinRa Building from any point in Midgar, it would be myself. I can drive perfectly fine, and if I happen to be too close to any major obstacle, I'm sure the other drivers won't hesistate to tell me. You two wait here for your captain."

Reno tried to protest, saying he could be there and back by the time Rude even thought of going to work, but he took it into his own hands nonetheless, driving back to the main road as accurately as expected.

There was a long silence in which Reno considered calling a few Force officers to stop his car if they saw it and Elena wondered if they'd ever see anything that had just sped off the beach again. Rude arrived in a few minutes, disproving the redhead's theory and calling for an explanation all at once. He had no idea Vincent had even been released, but he would have to be told; the guy was coming back with Reno's car, of course.

"What're you doing, waiting for the tide to go down?" he demanded before there was a chance for the two to speak. "Turn around and look who's floating about ten yards off the coast." He kept walking, apparently going to retrieve it. The others turned around as his foot hit the water, watching him drag the body of Tifa Lockheart back up onto the sand by a green-colored arm. Something was grating his nerves, which meant it was a good day to go elsewhere. "Drive. See if anybody else washed up in the night while I get this taken care of."

It was also a good time to go elsewhere, and they did.

-

-

Rude had just come back from carrying the upper half of Yuffie Kisaragi to her respective pole. The gash at her waist told him something big had gotten to her and they would probably never find the legs. He'd set aside her weapon for replication purposes; they'd only recovered hers and Barret's. What he saw forced him to draw his gun and call out, "Reno!" There was no answer, so he tried, "Elena?" Nothing, but he hadn't expected her to be under a car. He saw the bottom half of a Turk suit sticking out from under his car, and the legs were stirring slightly, so he knew it wasn't one of them taking a nap. "Stop! Turks!" he tried, but the person didn't move. His next idea was to run up, grab a protruding leg, and try to drag them out from under the car.

A shot rang out, and Rude's favorite ring fell off.

"I'll hit your finger next time, Hurst," Vincent said irritably as he crawled out from under the vehicle. He reloaded his Death Penalty, ejecting the shell he'd saved from earlier. "I was running your engine and I noticed you were leaking something, so I'm down here trying to fix it. Are none of you appreciative enough to let me do what I want?" His good eye narrowed. "I'm not some damned cripple - Hojo did much worse."

A hard silence passed before the bald man turned and walked away. He hated Vincent Valentine, and not because of AVALANCHE. He had a personal vendetta against the man in red, ever since he had helped kill Hojo. He shook his head and focused his attention on a large, white lump off the shore. When he'd reached it, he called Reno and started draging it toward the sand. "Reno," he said when the other had picked up. "We're done."

"Done? As in, done, done, off beach duty?" Elena looked up at this, hoping they could dump the body in the back seat off and go back to office work. Reno gave her a thumbs-up and she turned the car around, heading back toward Rude's location. "You found it?" She was only catching half of the conversation, but there was definite relief in her posture. "If it ends this shit, I'll do a lot more than just drag it to the building. Sure, whatever. Out." There was a very long pause, and Elena thought maybe he'd gone into shock on the phone, but then he grinned and said, "Yeah, that guy's a madman, ain't he? . . .Probably got it from the tailor in the building; isn't that gut renowned for having everything on hand? I'm sure they kept one in case he came back, anyway. Alright. Later."

He closed the phone and Elena looked at him expectantly. "Rude just found Cait," he told her, "which means all of AVALANCHE has been recovered and they're guaranteed to be dead." She broke into a grin. "He said they want me to comb the beach twice a week to get whoever else washes up. As soon as we return the cat to Scarlet, we're back in the offices."

She never thought she'd be glad to hear that they were going to be cramped up in offices again, but cleaning up bodies just wasn't her idea of a nice job. Only Rude and Tseng ever really got anything out of handling corpses. "So what was all that about a tailor?"

Reno briefly told her about Rude's encounter with Vincent, and by the time they were done laughing, they had pulled up next to the mangled wreck of Cait Sith. Time seemed to drag by as they strapped it to the top of the car, hauled it back to the building, and prepared for the daily routine of desk jobs again. Vincent would have to be assigned some position, as he didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon, but they knew something would work out.

Something always went Vincent Valentine's way.

-

-

It was maybe three days later when a SOLDIER named Martin Stern found something. Martin had been sent to the beach because Reno was on a Kalm assignment, just in case anything interesting were to surface today, and he hadn't expected much. Martin was just an average kid who kept his nose out of peoples' business, but people liked their business public when it involved the search for a man no one had ever heard of, guided only by mumbled descriptions from a woman on morphine.

The foreigner looked positively soaked and possibly Wutain, but Martin doubted he'd just been out for a swim in that heavy robe. He was wearing sunglasses, but one lens was half broken. There was a large sword strapped to his back in a makeshift sling, and in his right hand was a ceramic jug.

"Hey," Stern said, getting his attention before taking out a notepad. He kept his distance in case this was one of those Nationalist Wutain pricks whose blade was finely sharpened for SOLDIERS especially. "Name and current business?"

The stranger shrugged, taking a drink from the jug, but made no move for his sword. "I was really hoping you might be able to tell me why I'm here."

Martin smelled alcohol from where he stood, so he tried to handle the man like he would any other alcoholic he needed to take into custody. "Alright, pal, just give me your name and we'll get you home in one piece."

There was a long pause, then the man turned and looked at him. "Auron," he replied.

Martin couldn't have been any slower in regaining his motor skills.


	3. Chapter III

**In Stride**: Chapter III

-

The first thing Martin did after guiding Auron into the car was call Reno on an instinct, and he was lucky that the older man had just gotten home from Kalm. Within three minutes, he was leaping down staircases of his apartment building and making calls. The first one told him that the stranger had been driven to the ShinRa Building. The second told him that a news crew had gotten to him just before he got inside, and more had followed. The third was for his own good.

"Elena!" he shouted, leaping across the parking lot on one foot. He was trying to put a shoe on the other one; this late at night, one's priorities were scrambled. "Elena, get outta bed and get down to the building, now! Order from your superior!"

Some two miles away, the blonde sat up in bed, thinking there had been an attack or something. "What, why? Did something happen to Sc --"

He shouted, "Don't ask questions!" as he tried to open the car door, failing to use his hand and therefore just crashing into the side of it. "Shit!" He opened the door and climbed in, the world around him one big blur. "Martin Stern found this Auron guy on patrol and the media's already got him. We need to get down there and get the story before they can twist it into some tabloid alien-love-triangle bullshit." He started the car and tried to calm down. "Now get your ass outta bed!"

He didn't wait for an answer before throwing the phone into the back seat and squealing out of the parking lot. With the flip of a switch, a rim around his car began flashing red and the road suddenly opened up for him. There were few people out at this time of night, but it was still nice to speed through traffic for time's sake.

The ShinRa Building trip was like walking to him, so he was there within five minutes. Rufus had liked to have his help close and had assigned them residences they were far enough off the premises to be safe for the Turks to live in, but close enough for emergency needs. His horn was blaring as he swung into the parking lot, scattering some camera men and almost hitting a few news anchors. Martin was trying his best to deflect questions, but Auron was getting physically pulled this way and that, everyone eager for his side of the story.

"No further questions!" Reno yelled, getting out of the car and raising his badge. The crowd quieted "The next person to question Mr. Auron about any part of his or the mystery woman's life will be taken into custody by Martin Stern, SOLDIER First Class. Any other questions can be directed at myself, but my official comment on the matter is that the Turks have been assigned to this and we will take care of it as we see fit."

He grabbed Auron by his high collar and dragged him inside before any questions could be fired. Martin followed them with a dumb expression on his face, and when the redhead saw this, he furrowed his brows and asked what his problem was.

Martin straightened slightly, smiling like an idiot. "F - First Class? You mean it, Sir!"

Reno and Martin had known each other for a while. The Turks had kind of taken a liking to the guy, even. There had been many nights that involved the two of them playing poker and taking the shirts off people's backs. "No," the Turk said firmly, beginning to walk away with Auron in tow. After a second, he reached in his pocket and tossed the badge over his shoulder. "You're now my personal assistant." He pointed as Martin caught up. "RDRAN ASSIST. If you ever need authorization, just show 'em that."

"This is very touching and all," the stranger said gruffly, "but why am I being spoken for?"

The two were caught wordless for a moment before Stern remembered Auron's significance. "You don't by chance know a Lulu, do you?"

-

-

When Elena arrived at the survivors' hospital room, Reno walked out and closed the door behind him, an odd expression on his face. He'd just seen a strange reunion; Auron had walked into the room, taken one look at Lulu, and started drinking. He kept muttering things like, "I knew we weren't done" and "Why did you do it, Jecht?" Reno wasn't sure what they meant, so he had left Martin to keep watch while he went for breakfast.

"I had to shove past some news anchors. They all looked really pissed. What happened with Auron?"

"Nothing," he muttered. "That's the problem. He's not giving us any kind of a story."

This was a problem. The Turks had been in legal trouble with technicalities many times and had learned to look at everything right down to the elements. If Auron didn't declare he knew Lulu outrightly and the suspicion got around that he was a Wutain samurai impersonator, the force in blue would be the ones catching the blame. Word on the street spreads like wildfire, and the press had a hand in everything, so they needed to get a straight answer from him soon.

Not everyone knew that Turks did much more legal work than just eliminating threats.

"Shit," the redhead swore, kicking the wall feebly. "First Valentine, then that weird lady, now this. If I survive this whole ordeal, I'm retiring."

The door closed next to them, revealing Martin. "At thirty?" The look he got told him to get to business. "He said he'll talk if we get him some sake. Good morning, by the way, Elena." She was another Turk that he had frequented himself with. Really, he'd been gladhanding most of the executives for some time now, hoping he might bypass First Class and go straight to Turk, and he was just about there as of tonight.

Reno and Elena exchanged a look that spoke volumes. "Alright," the latter said," I think Rufus has some imported stuff in his office. Come with me to get it, Reno."

He followed without hesitation, and they kept quiet until they were in the elevator, like it would be taboo to bring it up elsewhere. As soon as the door was closed, he hissed, "Sake!" His eyes went wide. "If he doesn't have a good story, they're gonna think he's a spy for sure!"

Elena's look said something else. "That's not what's on my mind. . .I'm wondering. . .what if he is? What if this is just one big ruse?"

He had a feeling retiring might be the right idea, as old age must have been getting to him. That hadn't even occured to him. If it turned out that he was a spy and this had all been planned quite some time ago, it was their asses again. As much as they loved each other, Turks were pretty much against anyone that had no corporation connections and the only asses they watched were their own. "Okay. We get him a drink. If he talks and we like what we hear, we talk to the press. If he doesn't give us something believable, they died of complications."

Elena watched the city lights drop until she was looking almost directly down on the parking lot. Despite who he was, Reno could be ruthless sometimes. She figured that's what happened to everyone in their position. You suddenly grew another side and they both started fighting for physical control. Reno's secret side was malicious, even sadistic at times. Rude's was an angry tank with more than enough ammunition to destroy. . .hell, he could blow up the whole goddamn world.

Elena hadn't grown a second side yet. She'd been too caught up in the Meteor drama to get calloused by the day to day jobs the others had. She'd never been under the tyranny of Rufus ShinRa for an extended period of time, so she didn't know how it had been with him in the office. The only jobs she'd been on had something to do with Cloud Strife's gang, and now they were all dead.

Would she ever know the life of a real Turk? Or would they be rebuilding so long that she'd be retired before normal jobs came back?

She snapped out of her daze and noticed they were going down now. Reno was watching her with a strange expression, but she smiled slightly and shrugged. "Growing up in Costa, nobody ever told me about seeing the cities at night this way. Just kinda lost myself there."

He knew what she meant, so he took a sip of the drink, shivered, and nodded. "How can those weirdos drink this stuff?" he asked, grating his teeth along his tongue.

They got off the elevator and hurried back to Auron's room. Martin Stern stood outside like a sentry awaiting them, and all three went inside. The strange warrior hadn't moved from where Stern had left him, so they handed over his sake and he savored it. When a long enough silence had passed, Martin said quietly, "Maybe we can save this until the morning. He must be t --"

"I can speak for myself," Auron interrupted. There was something distinctly commanding about his quiet tone. It was actually more controlling than anything else.

The redhead had done many hostage negotiations and interrogations, so he set Martin up with a pen and a pad and got comfortable, advising everyone conscious to follow suit. "Perhaps we should start with you speaking your side, then?"

He looked them over, as if debating whether they were good enough to hear this or not, then sat back and took a drink. "I've nothing to lose, now, do I?" He paused for a moment, closed his only working eye, and was looking at the ceiling when it opened again. "I once knew a man named Braska. We attended the same church as young men, and when he became a summoner, he took me along on his journey to vanquish Sin."

"Wait, wait," Martin interrupted. "Sin's inside everyone or something like that, right? How can you get rid of it?"

The stranger didn't seem to notice he'd been spoken to at all. "I know there are differences among us, which will all be explained in due time. Anyway, I went along on Braska's pilgrimage, along with a prisoner we had met named Jecht. We were doing quite well, in all honesty, until we met with Lady Yunalesca, which was enough of a surprise even without her asking what she did of us." He stopped again.

Reno interjected this time. "What did she ask?" He was trying to play the good guy in all this, jotting notes and trying not to tell everyone how insane this sounded.

"She asked for wither Jecht or I to be sacrificed as an aeon. . ." He took another drink before saying, "She told us it was the only way to really defeat Sin; that Yu Yevon would need a new aeon to take over and make into a new monster. Obviously this meant the entire cycle would perpetuate and another summoner would die. I objected violently, but Jecht told me it was okay, that he would find a way to make it all work." His eye had moved to the ground now, but he still looked as casual as ever. "When Braska was killed in the final fight, I found Yunalesca and tried to get my revenge, but. . .she killed me before I could get her."

The two Turks exchanged a look and noticed Rude had walked in. Elena chewed at the inside of her cheek. The story had sounded almost valid until he'd mentioned his own death, and Rude was surely even less flexible than the other two. With the disbelieving, large man in charge of their force, it looked like Auron might be meeting a second early demise.

"What happened between then and my second fight with the Final Aeon is not important; only that I tell you I had not been sent and therefore could freely roam the world of the living. I followed Jecht's son to the new world after Sin attacked, sending myself to an advanced Luca. I once again journeyed with a party, this time with the son of Jecht and the daughter of Braska. Instead of making our mistake and sacrificing someone to be an aeon, however, they simply killed Lady Yunalesca and physically entered Sin, killing it at the core."

Auron looked over at the woman asleep on the bed, perhaps wondering if she had anything to say. "Lulu died protecting Yuna from Jecht, and we were sent to the Farplane together, but that's where the normalities end. There we met again with Yunalesca, who told us that, though the higher body of power was busy deciding what to do with Maester Seymour, that we had died for a good cause and would be allowed another life. The only condition was that it would not be our world we were sent to again. And so here I am, living my third life and wondering just what will be asked of me this time."

Everyone else seemed to digest this differently. Martin had figured it wasn't really on his shoulders and therefore he would stay the hell out of it. Reno had questions fighting for priority positon in his head and couldn't seem to form words, and Elena was too worried about the sudden rustle of a suit over by the door.

It turned out she had every right to be. Rude walked around all three of his comrades, standing within arm's reach of the stranger. He held himself there, forehead wrinkling and flattening for a moment, then drew his gun. He pressed it to Auron's forehead and muttered, "Nothing's going to be asked of you at all, Wutain."


End file.
